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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482193">For Now</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ohmorozovas'>ohmorozovas (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cursed (Netflix Original Series), Cursed (TV 2020), Cursed (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Hurt/Comfort, The sword is cursed, it will corrupt all who wield it, subtle, the beginnings of a romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:00:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ohmorozovas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your destiny is much greater than you believe. See, you follow this one and that one because you fear your own power. The Cailleach told me who would be the greatest sorceress in Britannia. And it is not the Wolf-Blood Witch. It’s you, Morgana. You." </p><p>What if the sword and the Hidden give hints of the same future the Cailleach saw for Morgana in an attempt to corrupt Nimue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Minor Nimue/Arthur, Morgana | Igraine/Nimue, Nimue/Morgana, Past Morgana | Igraine/Celia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ignore my poor grammar and punctuation, I wrote this in an hour because of insomnia.<br/></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The people were lively as they prepared to embark on the journey to take their new city and hold it in the midst of a siege as the kingdom of the Fey. As they made their stand against the king and the church that sought to eradicate them from the earth and sit complacently within high walls of a rich kingdom filled with safety and comfort for the people living in them. <em>The wolf-blood witch will win for us,</em> the people spoke. <em>She loves us as her own</em>, others boasted. <em>Bless them and protect them and more, so much more,</em> they believed. </p><p>So it was utterly ridiculous really, this envy she felt growing within her. It had begun as a suspicion at <em>her</em> knowledge at the deathbed of the man who Nimue began to maim with the help of the hidden. The sight of him was the first time she felt both frightened and enthralled for that power was hers and hers alone (<em>for now</em>, a small voice from nowhere seems to whisper in her mind). It began with a kick of survival instinct merge with the sword strong possession of its wielded, uncontrollable and magnificent, and damning. But with that power, she discovered she began to feel unease and frustration as if someone could take that from her.  Morgana held knowledge and it felt threatening.</p><p>Though she had no reason to feel such a way, Morgana had been nothing short of wonderful after she had pushed past her cold exterior at the beginning of her short stay at the convent. Morgana had known the meaning of the runes and at the time it was a relief for she was on her side some part of her was safe with Morgana. And she was still… mostly.</p><p>Only when she felt the presence of the sword, it’s divine pull on her, did she believe that maybe that wasn’t so true. And the whispers grow stronger, for where Nimue may have been cursed – no gifted truly – with this great power, for a long time she had rejected it. Even wished her people and her village dead if she remembered correctly beyond the fog of the sword’s presence at her side. So at odds with Morgana’s devotion to the fey people and their safety. Their happiness. And it felt like danger.</p><p>Like her great power that helped make her Queen of the Fey and helped give her edge over their blood enemies could be challenged. And by their loyal man-blood companion no less.</p><p>Truly she didn’t want to think about it, she felt paranoid and if she thought of it logically it was more like a random surge of madness for there was no greater power – it was her and the sword filled with the very essence of Merlin the great, Merlin the traitor, Merlin…her father.</p><p>Suddenly before her, a hand appeared above Nimue’s own that was resting on her knees and she was pulled back to reality as the others were moving around her, preparing still. She had felt the lull of the sword, allowing contemplation to dominate her quite clearly from the moment she sat before the fire, for it all had truly disappeared from her vision as she had fallen deeper and deeper into thought.</p><p>And suddenly Morgana, beautiful Morgana stood before her, concern clearly etched on her face. “Nimue, are you alright?” Morgana spoke warmly no trace of betrayal or threat to her.</p><p>She felt her own face pull a small smile, in an attempt to will Morgana into believing her, “Just strategizing in my head is all. Nothing to be worried about at all.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” She asked still very clearly concerned with Nimue’s wellbeing.</p><p>“I’m fine, I promise,” she claimed, a bit stilted if she were honest. She finished speaking as she moved to get up as if physically moving away from Morgana could both distance her from the conversation and the gnawing thoughts. However, Morgana followed.</p><p>She seemed to hesitate before breathing out almost annoyed, “it’s not Arthur, is it?”</p><p>And with that her smile became a true one. “No, I can assure you Arthur was not in my thoughts just then,” she paused. “Truly, tomorrow is just occupying my mind, I am responsible for everyone here.”</p><p>And looking around no other time had the words settled so deeply, heavy in her stomach. How silly of her to have let the envy rule her and drive her to madness. She began to feel unworthy of her people’s praise and admiration. She would lead them to death if this was her biggest concern. She wanted to wallow in it and grieve already, grieve for everyone here around her, anyone she would cross in the future and anyone she feels she has damned in the past. With the thought that she wanted nothing more than to grieve her mother finally, she felt all of her shift into the sorrowful state immediately.</p><p>Yet almost as quick as lightning, Morgana grabbed her by the shoulders, drawing so close to her face it felt as if an accidental shift by one of them would cause their noses to touch, “Do not doubt yourself Nimue, for you are great with power and even greater with loyalty. You are not alone. You have your people’s admiration. And Arthur and I, well... we will not fail you. Not ever. I vow it.” She spoke every word so passionately, so full of love.</p><p>She found herself entranced with her words and her soft, kind lips speaking them to existence. It was a magic of its own in truth. She remembered what she saw of Celia and Morgana at the convent and she couldn’t help but wonder if Morgana’s late love, would kiss Morgana’s lips to drown herself in that kindness, in that love, in that devotion. The true essence of Morgana.</p><p>She felt an aura of warmth overtake her, and she was suddenly aided by strength guided to her through Morgana’s spoken words, the utter belief in her gaze.</p><p>All she could muster was the softest, most fragile “thank you” before Morgana was satisfied that her words had alleviated the sorrow and doubt, smiling as she bowed and walking away towards where the children and adults who couldn’t physically fight were loading together what little of the belongings they had to transport them to their new city.</p><p>She felt herself staring after Morgana, letting her words shift through her mind, the warmth she had felt as she spoke them never leaving her. She suddenly mustered all memory of Morgana’s value to the people, and to her most of all. The invisible arguments and the madness only exacerbated by the pull of the swords could not win.</p><p>Morgana could be a most valuable advisor, she has worked with her resistance longer, she has lived amongst the man-bloods and lived amongst the ranks of their purification armies in the ruse of helping the red paladins, and most importantly she was a loved one. Someone that tethered her to this reality.</p><p> <em>We will not fail you,</em> the image of her sweet lips continued to whisper in her mind throughout the night, cradling her with warmth and shooing away the unknown darkness attempting to pull her soul. <em>Not ever.</em></p>
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